


It's Raining, Race

by thnksfrthfnfc



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Brooklyn, M/M, Sharing a Bed, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thnksfrthfnfc/pseuds/thnksfrthfnfc
Summary: Racetrack gets caught in the rain, and Spot lets him stay at the Brooklyn lodge.





	It's Raining, Race

“Race, you are not walking all the way back to Manhattan in this downpour.” Spot Conlon grabbed his friend’s arm to make him halt. It had been a lousy day for Racetrack selling papers, and he had stood at his usual Brooklyn selling point for more hours than he would have preferred. Usually he went home well before sunset, but today, when he finally sold his last paper, it started raining. He attempted to take cover beside the buildings, hoping it would stop soon, but instead it only got worse. The wind had bit at his face, and he wished he’d worn a jacket. After 10 minutes of shuffling down the sidewalks against the buildings, he had accepted he would just have to brave the storm if he wanted to get home. He’d taken a step onto the street and was immediately called to from his left. Spot was walking towards him.

“I’d rather walk back and change into dry clothes than sit out here all day waiting for the rain to stop,” Race said annoyed. Spot rolled his eyes and turned to walk down the street, dragging Race by his arm.

“I’m letting you crash at our lodge, just this once,” Spot muttered, clearly against the idea, “because I know you can’t work if you get a cold.” Race tried to argue, but it was half-hearted, since he was getting tired of the freezing rain, and it definitely didn’t look like it was about to stop. He considered asking Spot how far their place was, but all too soon, Spot had dropped his arm and was walking up the steps of an old building. Race quickly followed him inside and was relieved when Spot threw him a towel to dry off with. Spot watched him silently until Race thought he was dry enough and handed the towel back. 

“You can borrow some of my clothes,” Spot said, turning to go up a set of stairs. Race pulled off his damp shirt as he ascended the stairs behind him. Spot dug through his small bedside drawer of clothes and threw some towards the other boy.

“Thanks, Spot,” Race said, “You really didn’t have to let me stay, but I appreciate it.” He refused to make eye contact. Spot shrugged. 

“I don’t mind. You’re Manhattan, but you work here, so I feel like I gotta treat you like I’d treat my other boys.” Spot stood stoically by the dresser. He dropped his eyes and fiddled with the shirt in his hands. “Come hang out downstairs when you’re dressed.” He grabbed a pair of pants from the drawer and fled the room. Race shuffled into the borrowed shirt and pants. He balled up his wet underwear and left them in a pile with his other clothes. He hoped Spot wouldn’t mind the puddle they left on the floor. Race took his time leaving the room, knowing the rest of the Brooklyn newsies were downstairs, and they probably already knew he was there. He looked around the Brooklyn lodge and compared it to Manhattan’s. Through the window, he saw it was still raining, and the sky was covered in gray clouds. He sighed, ran a hand through his wet hair, and prepared to greet the newsies downstairs. 

The wooden steps creaked under his bare feet, and he heard talking from the main room. At the doorway, most people didn’t take notice of him. A few nodded a greeting in his direction, and a familiar boy that he couldn’t recall the name of waved at him. Spot was sitting on one of the tables in his dry clothes. His hair was stuck to his forehead, looking much like how Race figured his looked. He also noticed some of the others had wet hair from the rain, but they had gotten back before Spot and him. Maybe Spot had called all his boys in before finding Race? Racetrack figured Jack would do that too, but most of the Manhattan newsies sold fairly close to the lodge and didn’t have trouble getting back once they saw gray clouds. 

Racetrack joined Spot on the table and tried to listen to the story one of the other boys was telling. He was confused, because he missed the first half of the story, but he pretended to listen anyway. When Spot reacted to something being said, Race did too. Eventually some of the boys brought him into their conversation, and he mingled with them until he remembered that he needed to go home once the weather cleared. He excused himself to look out the window and was saddened to see it was just as bad, if not worse, than earlier. 

“I didn’t expect this much rain,” Spot said from beside him. He took a step forward to lean against the windowsill with Race and scowled. “It better clear up before selling time tomorrow.” 

Race just shrugged.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but you can stay here tonight. I’m sure Jack will understand if you don’t show up,” Spot looked at him.

“Where would I sleep? From the amount of boys I’ve seen, I don’t think you have beds to spare,” asked Race. He turned away from the window to face the room. There were still a lot of boys hanging out, but Race noticed a lot had went to bed by then. He wasn’t sure what time it was, but the sky was quite a bit darker than before. 

“Downstairs doesn’t have much heat during the night,” Spot said, “It’s warmest in the bunks with all of us. None of us are really good at sharing beds, but I think I could handle it for a night—as long as you don’t snore.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Race to consider it. If it were anyone else, Spot would make two of the younger boys share, but Spot didn’t mind Race. They were friends, and he wasn’t opposed to sleeping in close proximity to him. 

“Yeah, alright.” Race nodded. He and Spot ascended the stairs quietly and went into the bunk room. Spot shushed the other boy, even though Race hadn’t intentionally made any noise. The room was dark except for the moonlight coming in through the windows. They made their way to Spot’s bed, attempting to not trip over any of the newsies possessions. Race was mainly focused on not stubbing one of his toes. 

Race climbed into the bed and scooted himself to the edge. Spot stood hesitantly next to him.

“I don’t usually sleep in my day clothes,” Spot muttered. After a minute, he sighed and laid down beside Race. 

“I’d have taken my pants off, but you didn’t give me any underwear.” Race said quietly, trying to not wake anyone up. He was their guest, and it would’ve been in bad taste to disrupt their sleep. Spot laughed quietly. A few minutes later he realized Race had fallen asleep. 

______

Race woke up to a blunt smack on his shoulder. He blinked, trying to remember where he was. 

“Stop snoring in my ear,” Spot deadpanned. He was sitting up in the bed with his hair pointing in every direction. He glared at Race before rubbing his eyes. The room was still dark, so Race wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep.

“Sorry,” he said, voice heavy with sleep. Spot shook his head and laid back down beside him. 

“Just don’t wake me up again.”

______

Two hours later, Spot was awakened yet again. He contemplated pushing Race out of bed, but decided it would cause too much noise. He sighed and looked at the sleeping boy beside him. His mouth opened and closed slightly with each breath. Race turned on his side subconsciously, and Spot swore he’d push him out of the bed if he woke up to drool on his pillow. 

“I told him the one condition was that he couldn’t snore, yet here we are,” whispered Spot to himself. He looked at Race again, sleeping peacefully. Spot reached his arm over to push Race’s bangs off his forehead, and Race’s snoring stuttered. He froze until Race showed no signs of waking up and brought his hand back to himself. As much as he wanted to sleep, he didn’t want to wake Race again if he was just going to go back to snoring five minutes later. He stared up at the ceiling until his eyes got too tired to stay open. 

A few hours later, Race was sitting beside him and shaking him awake with the sunlight streaming into the room. His hair was messy and his shirt was wrinkled, but he was smiling down at Spot. 

“The rain’s gone, Spot,” he said, pointing to the windows, “And I can get back to Manhattan.” Race dragged himself out of the bed and dug through his pile of still damp clothes to put on his shoes. He hesitated once he’d picked his stuff up. “Thanks for letting me stay, even though I was a terrible bed-sharer.” 

“No big deal. You’re welcome here anytime… and by anytime I mean when its raining.” Spot got out of bed, put on his shoes, and walked Race downstairs. Race said goodbye to the newsies who weren’t already out selling papers and waved to Spot, knowing they’d see each other later that day if Spot visited him while he was selling.

**Author's Note:**

> I have like 5 newsies fics that I'll probably never finish but I got this one done at least.. .


End file.
